


Falling in a Forest (Did You Even Make a Sound?)

by Epi_girl



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Ghosts, I'm Sorry, Loneliness, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-11-08 19:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11088501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epi_girl/pseuds/Epi_girl
Summary: It's shaping up to be another shitty year for Connor. Bad family, a sister he's estranged himself from and a whole school full of people who think he's a freak, and whisper about him in the halls daily like he's deaf or something. Nothing new.That is, until he meets a shy boy in a blue polo shirt who won't leave him alone.





	1. Who the fuck are you?

An obnoxious, blaring sound cut through the sleepy haze of Connor's half conscious mind, jolting him awake involuntarily. He groaned loudly, knowing how much it pissed off his perfect little sister when he did that. The undignified sound probably made her huff disapprovingly, and Connor snorted at the thought. The teenager ran a hand through his horribly messy, but incredibly soft hair, finally starting to register that he slept in his hoodie again. Fuck. The zipper always dug into his hips and the hem left rug burn.... Yep, he can feel it now. His hips and stomach are gonna be sore all day long, and he'll be even angrier than usual. Joy. 

 

Yawning almost exaggeratedly, Connor dragged himself out of his unfairly soft and tempting bed to subject himself to the horrors of the stupid waking world. Why couldn't he just stay asleep forever? He didn't give a shit about senior year. He didn't give a shit about anything, except Zoe and maybe music and art. Speaking of which.... the black-clad teen glanced down at his painted nails, smirking when he found the polish as flawless and unchipped as the night before. Hell yeah. It was a good thing, really, because he loved this colour and how he put it on. Who cares what people thought of the fact that he painted his nails?

 

Absently glancing at himself in the mirror, mind still on nail polish and death, Connor snorted. The dark circles under his eyes seem to have darkened over the summer, and for once he agreed with Larry, he did look like a drug addict. Well, y'know, he kind of was one, but whatever. Straightening his jacket, the teenager lumbered silently down the slightly creaky steps. Geez, with how rich this family was, you'd think that they'd fix the stairs. 

 

He wandered nonchalantly into the dining room, snatching a granola bar and the milk jug away from Zoe, face displaying a 'fucking fight me' type expression as he opened the badly decorated foil wrapper of the snack, biting into it with far more force than was needed. Thank god, Larry wasn't at the table. Connor wasn't sure if he could deal with that level of asshole in his sleep-deprived, slightly drug addled state. He munched silently on his granola bar, watching as Zoe methodically consumed her bowl of cheerios, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

 

Connor's face paled at the sound of Cynthia's too-happy, sugar sweet voice and light footsteps moving through the kitchen. Well, he was pale as hell already so... he paled even more.

 

Chugging down the last of the milk in the small, cheap jug and slamming the now empty container down on the dark wood table, Connor grimaced and shot up from his chair. He couldn't deal with his mother's painfully pandering "I care about your feelings!" attitude right now. Memories of all the stupid things she'd said to him in order to "help" flashed through the teenager's mind as he darted to the door, a loud, irritated cry of "Connor finished the milk!" from Zoe following him as he slipped outside. Slamming the door closed, he took a deep breath, the cool air calming him to an extent.

 

 _Might as well start walking..._ he thought, shrugging his hoodie higher up on his shoulders.

 

First day of senior year. So what? Just another nine months of assholes who didn't even know him calling him a freak behind his back and sometimes to his face, and classes that didn't teach him anything. School was useless.

 

Connor's walking pace quickened. 10 minutes until the day officially began. He might have despised learning and the building in general, but even he knew that being late or missing the first day was a really shitty idea. His boot-clad feet made dull thuds as he moved faster down the sidewalk, eyebrows furrowed as his messy, shoulder length brown hair whipped around and blew into his eyes. Growling softly, Connor batted it away. Fucking hair. Maybe he shouldn't have grown it so long.

 

Before he knew it, the elder Murphy was standing in front of the large, bland, high school building.

 

He sighed heavily, resigning himself to another friendless year of merciless teasing and self hatred. His feet moved up the steps, eyes downcast until he reached the top, instinctively reaching out to open the doors. Pulling the dark blue, glossy door wide open, Connor stepped inside, the sterile cream colour of the walls and the disgusting grey-brown carpet to wipe your shoes on all too familiar as he stormed down the hall to his locker with that signature Murphy glare on his face.

 

That is, until he spotted someone staring at him.

 

Not in the usual "God, he's such a freak" way. Connor was receiving multiple of them at that exact moment, actually. No, this fawn-haired boy in an outdated blue striped polo shirt and pale brown khakis was just looking at him, face guarded and yet open at the same time. His striking blue eyes seemed to be boring into the black-clad teen, and Connor found himself mildly uncomfortable. He squirmed a bit, but turned away, the dark hairs on the back of his neck pricking up now that he knew someone was watching. 

 

His dextrous fingers shook as he tried to unlock the door, missing the combination over and over as the boy inched ever closer. He finally broke when he felt the strange kid lean over his shoulder.

 

"What the fuck is your problem?" He snapped, causing the boy to flinch back in shock and fear as the combo lock fell from Connor's hands. "Why the hell are you staring at me, creep?"

 

The boy looked shocked, tan hands lightly dotted with freckles smoothing down the thick fabric of his baby blue collared shirt. "Y-y-y-you can s-see me?" He stammered out, something shaken in his gaze. 

 

What the hell did that mean? "Yeah, and if you don't leave me the fuck alone, you won't be able to see!" Connor growled, bristling at the weak answer. "Go away, freak!"

 

The boy went pale (there was something funny there somewhere) and turned on his heel, sneakers flying down the hall as Connor watched, temper slowly fizzling out as the young boy sprinted down the corridor, utterly ignored as he faded into the crowd.

 

Connor sighed. He could have been friends with that guy. He wished he didn't blow up so much. They had a chance to be, dare he say, friends.

 

But at the same time... what? He'd been staring so intensely, like he though that Connor would never notice it. And what the fuck did he mean by "you can see me"? What was up with his clothes?

 

Senior year was shaping up to more interesting than he thought.

 

_Who-- and what-- the hell was that?_

 

 

 


	2. Angsty Teenager and Tree Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This kid just won't leave Connor alone.
> 
> Might as well make the most of his company while it lasts, right?

Connor grumbled as he walked out of biology, shoving past a short teen wearing a red hoodie covered in patches, white headphones slung around his neck. Glancing back briefly as he felt a twinge of guilt, he saw a taller, pale boy move to his side, and he turned back around at that, storming towards the cafeteria. He didn't need a reminder that everyone but him had friends. Or at least, people who cared about them.

 

Sitting down in his usual spot near the back of the room, at a shaky table with grimy chairs, Connor stared down at his immature black nails. The glossy surface shone in the dull, artificial light of the lunchroom, the location of the reflection shifting as he tilted his hand back and forth. 

 

A quiet cough from over his shoulder shook the elder Murphy back to reality.

 

He whipped around to find the boy from earlier, still dressed in that pale blue polo shirt, one arm fidgeting with the buttons along the neckline-- "Is that a cast?" He blurted out, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes scanned over the person. He looked flustered, embarrassed almost as his tan cheeks littered with dark freckles became tinged with red.

 

"I... u-uh, yeah." He mumbled, voice soft and nervous. Apparently not satisfied with that answer, the boy glanced down at the floor, forcing himself to continue as his voice became more and more strained.

 

"I-i-I'm sorry for st-staring. Earlier an-and now. I'm j-just so surprised that S-someone saw-- n-n-noticed me." Jesus Christ, how much did this kid stutter?

 

"It's fine." Connor muttered gruffly, teeth sinking into a sandwich aggressively. The boy nodded, tugging at his shirt collar again as anxiety crept into even more of his face. "No one signed your cast." The teenager mumbled through a mouthful of bread and ham.

 

"Um... n-no one really likes me th-that much." 

 

"Want me to sign it?"

 

The boy jumped, pulling his broken, cast covered arm to his chest, eyes wide. "No, no! I'm fine!" He said, voice pitched an octave higher than usual. Connor raised an eyebrow at the irrationally strong reaction to such a simple question. Filing it away in the back of his head for future reference, the black-clad teen wiping away a small piece of cheese stuck in his lips. "It's fine. Wanna sit down?"

The boy nodded silently, sweat beading on his forehead. God, he was cute-- wait, what? Nope. Not going there.

 

The boy, (who was decidedly _not cute_ ) moved to sit down, body perched awkwardly on the unsteady seat when he finally got there. "S-S-so what's your name?" The kid squeaked out, one eyebrow raised with interested and concern.

 

"I'm Connor Murphy."

 

"E-Evan Hansen."

 

Connor smiled wryly. "Nice to meet you, Hansen."

 

At least now he had a name for the face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short! It's more of a filler chapter so that I can start working on the actual plot.


	3. Willow Trees and Unanswered Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two days.
> 
> Evan is still talking to him.
> 
> Damn, the kid is persistent.

Mornings were always the same for Connor Murphy.

Get up. Get dressed, though that often wasn't necessary as he fell asleep in his clothes, tired out by school, his stupid family, and pot. Head downstairs and pray that his parents were busy or still sleeping. Eat, well, something. Usually not very much. Then rush out the door and mentally prepare  for another day of weird looks and not-so-subtle whispers. Things hadn't changed in four years.

That is, until Evan Hansen showed up.

Seriously, it had been two days since Connor snapped at him and he approached him at lunch, and the fawn-haired boy would still sit with him at his grimy old table that most people would turn their nose up at, he still talked to the taller teen in the halls (though the conversations they had seemed to draw a lot of quizzical looks) and now--

"Connor!"

The Murphy boy turned his head. And what do you know, there was Evan Hansen, now wearing a white t-shirt printed with a large tree right in the centre, and a pair of grey khaki pants. Speak of the devil, he thought. 

The smaller boy raced across the street, baby blue backpack bouncing against him as he ran. His cheeks were flushed a pale pink from the excercise as he practically flew across the asphalt, feet appearing to not even make contact with the cracked, greyish ground. It did strike Connor as a little bit strange that such an anxious boy was running across the road without checking for cars or taking a single precaution. It was almost like he wasn't afraid of death, somehow, despite how fearfully he'd talked about it on the second day they'd known each other. The black clad teenager brushed it off. He was probably just overthinking things. The sound of rubber on pavement, though quieter than normal, shook Connor from his slightly morbid and over complicated thoughts. He glanced down, finding Evan there at his side, grey blue eyes wide as he gazed up at him.

"Hey, Hansen." Connor muttered, rubbing at one of his own chocolate brown eyes. Fuck, he slept badly. Stupid Larry kept him up by yelling at the ball game.

Waving shyly, Evan responded with "H-h-hi, Connor!"

The teenager smiled at the greeting, tuning away from the boy in the tree t-shirt and continued to walk towards hell-- school. He walked towards school.  With a small jolt, Evan followed, hands tightly gripping the navy blue straps of his backpack, one finger fiddling with the chord to adjust them. The shorter boy stared down at the ground as the two of them walked in a comfortable silence. Neither one of them really needed words.

Connor had become fairly used to some of Evan's strange behaviours. Such as, waiting for him to open the school door and then darting inside at an almost alarming speed. He shrugged it off. Probably an anxiety thing. He wouldn't ask about it, and, well, he wouldn't get an answer anyway. The tree-obsessed boy was skittish as hell. Asking such a blatant and almost judging question would be a terrible idea.

Come to think of it, Evan had a lot of strange things about him. Connor never saw him in any classes, nobody acknowledged him ever, even though he was talking to him, the freak of the school. He refused to touch anyone, and barely made contact with anything. That, plus the reckless way he'd run across the street this morning... Hansen was a weird kid. He had a broken arm and he'd never explained why, though Connor had asked repeatedly. He'd always dodge the subject, going on to talk about trees or something. The last time the question had come up, he'd loudly exclaimed "Willows!" (Again, garnering no attention) and began to ramble about willow trees and a bunch of useless but kind of interesting facts about them. Strange.

But hey, someone was talking to him. And not in a teasing and rude way like Jared Kleinman, or a rushed chat that didn't have much substance like Alana Beck, who still called him a 'close acquaintance', or a familial 'I have to talk to you because we're related so here's a half-assed attempt at conversation' way, like Zoe. No, Evan seemed like he legitimately wanted to be friends, even if Connor was a notoriously violent stoner with a shitty report card and an insanely long record of skipping school. Speaking of which, he'd probably do that today. With how little sleep he'd gotten, classes were a recipe for disaster.

The bell rang. Fuck.

Turning around, Connor made a beeline for the dark blue door. Reaching for the handle, he paused when he heard Evan speak.

"C-Connor? We're g-g-gonna be late for cl-class!" The boy exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm skipping." Connor said nonchalantly, shrugging as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "You can come if you want, but I can't deal with school today." He pulled the door open, beginning to step outside... he felt a rush of cool air as Evan sped by him, and as soon as he was on the schools cracked front steps, there stood Evan, shy and uncertain as ever. 

"S-so... where are we going?"

Connor smirked. He knew just the place.


	4. For Forever (Or At Least A Little While)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They skip in the orchard.
> 
> Connor remembers a few things.
> 
> Evan seems more awkward than usual.

Connor hopped out of the divers seat of his (well, Zoe's, but who cares?) car, running one pale hand through his dark mess of hair. God, he loved driving. It always made him feel so in control when the rest of the word was out of his grasp. And hey, he was pretty good at it. Sparing a glance back towards Evan, the shorter boy was quivering as he stepped from the glossy blue vehicle. Well.... maybe not that good.

Instictively, the taller teenager reached out to lay a hand on his friends shoulder. Was that presumptuous? Were they friends? Fuck it. His friend. Of course, Evan flinched away. Connor wasn't surprised, the kid hated physical contact. He hadn't touched him once in the time they'd known each other. And, well, they'd only known each other two days, but still! Usually there was a touch on the shoulder, an accidental brush of the hands, even in that short span of time. Retracting his hand, he began to walk out into the field, not really caring if Evan followed or not. The half-dead grass brushing against his legs and the skyline framed with trees reminded Connor of the last time he'd come here with his family, before the orchard shut down.

 

_Zoe races across the field, the overgrown weeds and grass parting around her legs tickling the skin and making her giggle, clutching a tiny alien plush to her chest as she pulls lightly on the hem of her star patterned denim shorts."Come on, come on!" she squeals, bouncing on her toes as her family makes their way up the hill, surrounded by trees and unable to keep up with her eight-year-old enthusiasm._

_Connor chuckles as he reaches the top of the hill, turning to watch his parents clamber up the steep slope. His father looks strained, sweat beading on his forehead as he forces his legs to move upwards, the floral tablecloth folded messily under his arm. His mother, by comparison, is smiling brightly and practically skipping up the hill. She holds the picnic basket loosely in her right hand, reaching the top and joining her children in watching her husband struggle to make it up._

_Eventually he does. Tossing out the fabric onto the ground, the pastel pink and baby blue a sharp contrast against the yellowed grass. His mother sets down the picnic basket as Connor watches, fascinated by how carefree she looks, thin lips stretched into an honest smile._

_He's shaken from that train of thought by Zoe tugging on his sleeve. "Connor! Connor, cmon! Connor, Connor..."_

 

"...Connor?" Evan called, looking more anxious than ever.

Not the time for memories, Murphy.

"Hi." He muttered gruffly, pushing, or rather walking, as Evan didn't touch him, by the other boy, he moved to lay down in the grass. This was his favourite place to go to skip school. Then again, it said something that he had a favourite place to do that. Moving across the relatively flat land, Connor eventually found himself lying down in the shade of a tall oak tree, arms folded and knees tucked up to his chest.

He felt a presence next to him, Evan Hansen, no doubt. The boy curled into a ball, leaning back against the bark of the tree, piercing blue eyes staring up at the pale sky, ethereal, wispy clouds drifting across it.

A quiet sigh escaped Connor's lips as he relaxed against the oak, eyes sliding shut. Conversation and possible friendship could come later. Right now, he just really needed a nap. And where better to do it than in the old orchard?

 

-*-*-*-

 

Turns out, there were better places to sleep.

Connor woke with a groan, a sharp pang of pain shooting through his shoulders and lower back as he sat up. Being slumped against a tree for what he assumed was about three hours hurt. He had to stop forgetting that. This was, what, the third time this month? Damn, he was forgetful.

A nervous laugh shook the elder Murphy from his sleep addled state, arms stretched above his head. 

"Y-You're awake." Evan forced out, staring at the open field framed with trees in bloom.

"Yeah." Connor mumbled, voice rough and low with sleep. Well, rougher and lower than usual. So basically, like a more intense version of himself.

"Y-y-you were as-asleep f-for about t-two hours, if y-you were wondering. You probably weren't I'msorryi'llshutupnow." The shorter boy ducked his head, gripping the grass tightly. Geez, he seemed even more anxious than normal. Was it the orchard?

"Geez, Hansen, calm down." 

"O-okay. Sorry..."

"You apologize a lot." Connor remarked, tilting his head to the side with a quizzical smirk.

"I-I'm sorry, is that annoying? I'll stop, s-sorry."

"You don't need to say sorry for everything." Connor scoffed quietly, raising an eyebrow at Evan, who suddenly looked strained. "You wanna say it again, don't you?"

"Very much so, yes!"


	5. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Evan and Connor talk for longer than they meant to, and Zoe starts asking questions.

Growing up with an unnaturally joyful mother like Cynthia, Connor had heard the phrase, "time flies when you're having fun" far too many times.

 

Who would have thought it was true? 

 

Around Evan, it was easy to just talk and talk and keep on talking without noticing just how fast the time was passing by. The sun was smack dab in the middle of the blue sky, harsh rays beaming down on the two of them and making Connor feel like a human baked potato in his black hoodie and skinny jeans, and he barely noticed. The taller boy just peeled off the worn, lint covered jacket and tossed it aside, a small smile on his face as Evan rambled about being a park ranger. When the light began to fade from the park, neither boy paid it any mind, simply believing a cloud had passed in front of the sun. The only time they noticed any kind of change, was when the darkness was fully enveloping the sky, the first pale stars becoming visible in the inky night, weak moonlight being the only light that illuminated the park.

"Shit!" Connor exclaimed, hands slamming down against the soil as he glanced up at the sky, face dusted by silver light. At the sudden outburst, Evan flinched back, mouth snapping shut halfway through a sentence about how much he hated Twinkies.

"Wh-what?" 

The taller of the two let out a groan, head falling forwards into his hands as locks of his soft, tangled hair slipped from behind his ear, bouncing around his face and going still.

"My fucking parents are gonna kill me. Not to mention Zoe..."

"Wh-who's Z-Z-Zoe? If you don't, um, m-mind me asking..."

Connor sighed, hands curling into fists and tugging at the grass. It was better than his hair, at least. "My sister. _God_ , she's gonna be pissed."

 

Evan fell silent, staring down at the grass beneath him, drawing his knees up to his chest and absently scratching at his arm. He seemed... distant, all of a sudden, in a way he'd never been before.

Connor began to feel a little unsettled, glancing at the other boy, a tiny bit of nervousness shining in his deep, mostly brown eyes. Had he said something wrong? Did he make Evan uncomfortable? _Good job, Murphy, you had a friend for once and now you've fucked everything up_.

 

"I should probably, um... go, then?"

"Y-yeah. P-p-probably."

 

When Connor turned around to see if Evan had decided to leave, his hunched figure was nowhere to be found. 

 

-*-*-*-

 

As expected, Zoe was leaning against the wall, a disappointed and ever-so-slightly pissed off look on her face as soon as Connor stepped in the door. 

 

"Where the hell have you been?"

 

The older of the two groaned, tipping his head back in a show of only slightly exaggerated frustration. Stupid Zoe, always on his case. He's almost 18, for fucks sake! He doesn't need surveillance from his little sister all the time.

 

"With a friend, asshole, what's it to you?"

 

She scoffed, and Connor could feel a spark of anger in his chest.

 

"You have friends? That's news to me."

"Well I do, and you can fuck right the hell off."

 

He moved to start up the stairs, dark, matted hair falling in front of his face, before Zoe grabbed his wrist, effectively keeping him in place, a tiny grin on her face that somehow felt... malicious to him.

 

"I'm not letting you go without getting a name first."

 

Connor sighed, an air of frustration to the sudden slump in his posture. 

 

"Fine. His name is Evan Hansen, happy now?"

 

Without stopping to see Zoe's reaction, Connor wrenched himself from her grip and stormed up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE UPDATED
> 
> I kind of lost motivation on this, I'm so sorry! But have this to make up for it.


End file.
